


When all is said and done

by Johnlock_4_ever



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Caring Greg Lestrade, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Post S4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlock_4_ever/pseuds/Johnlock_4_ever
Summary: Mycroft is struggling when the truth about Redbeard is revealed. He feels like he let his little brother down after all. Mommy had a nervous breakdown and his father told him not to contact them for a while. Feeling lost and estranged from his own past, there is only one way for Mycroft to deal with his emotions: an intense BDSM scene… or so he thinks. Greg shows him that some gentle domination and reassurance are much, much better.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	When all is said and done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janto321 (FaceofMer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/gifts).



> Just a little Mystrade-shaped “cupcake” with Greg on top. Happy Birthday, dear ;)

The evening passed by in a blur of police sirens and a quick recap of the past thirty years of Sherlock and Mycroft’s life, and it all ended with the arrest of a sister Mycroft had never even mentioned before. Greg’s head was swimming with the input of information. His thoughts became a little clearer when he gazed back at the black limousine that safely took his fiancé back to their shared flat. Greg had wanted to go with him, but Mycroft insisted that he needed some time alone.

“Mycroft… make sure he’s looked after. He’s not as strong as he thinks he is,” Sherlock’s voice cut through the silence. Everything was unbearably silent now that their adrenaline levels declined and everyone was safe. “I mean it.”

Sherlock sounded genuinely concerned about his brother… a feeling that the D.I. knew all too well. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Thanks, Greg.”

The D.I. was startled that the younger Holmes brother remembered his name for the first time in years, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. He redirected some tasks to the other police officers at the scene so he could get to where he was really needed: home.

~

When Greg entered the semi-lighted house, Mycroft was nowhere to be seen. He checked Mycroft’s office, then their living room and kitchen. Heading for the bedroom, Greg noticed that the door was left ajar and the three-piece suit Mycroft had worn less than an hour ago was neatly folded on a chair in the hallway. It was Mycroft’s way of communicating that he needed his Dom, not his boyfriend. Remembering the openly scared look on Mycroft’s face when he’d found him in one of the cells at Sherrinford, Greg decided that he would be a little bit of both tonight.

Entering the room, Greg’s gaze fell on the naked man who was kneeling on a rug at the end of their bed. The crisp white sheets were covered with an assortment of toys that all related to pain play in a way. Greg sighed internally and kneeled down next to his sub and fiancé.

“Mycroft,” he said softly and the other man finally looked at him. “What is all that?” Greg gestured at the various toys.

“I was hoping you might use them on me, Sir.”

“And what makes you think I want to?” Greg had the bad feeling that Mycroft was trying to mix their bedroom-only kinks with feelings of real life guilt.

“You saw what happened today, Gregory. I failed at the long-term task of keeping my sister under preventive detention and compromised the security of an entire nation.” Mycroft lowered his eyes again. “As to the toys, you have used them on me before. If you think I deserve anything less, you’re very naïve… Sir.”

Greg shook his head. “No… I’m not gonna use any of that tonight. Here’s what we’re going to do instead: you will take all these whips and floggers and put them back in their usual place. Then join me in the bathroom and bring your collar. You have five minutes.”

Mycroft simply blinked – a Holmes family trait that only appeared when he was extremely confused and overwhelmed.

Greg smiled at the adorable reaction and stood up again. “I believe I gave you an order, pet.” Waiting until Mycroft finally snapped out of it, Greg turned around and went to the adjoined bathroom. Steaming hot water filled the large bathtub as he added some of Mycroft’s preferred lemon and cedar wood bath salt. The only thing his sub really deserved was a calm evening and a reminder how much he was loved and cared for.

By the time Mycroft entered the room with his black leather collar, Greg had stripped down to his boxer briefs. Locking his gaze on Mycroft’s, Greg took them off teasingly slow. He glanced at his wrist watch and took it off as well. “I’m not surprised you finished your task in time. Come here.” Greg replaced the collar in Mycroft’s right hand with his own hand and set the collar down on a small table next to the bathtub. Still holding his fiancé’s hand he climbed into the steaming but pleasant water and asked Mycroft to sit down in front of him. Obeying his Dom, Mycroft settled in between Greg’s spread thighs and sighed when the liquid warmth enveloped most of his body.

Greg smiled as the other man leaned back against his chest. Mycroft was starting to relax from the horrible stress of the last week, but he was still tense. Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s chest and peppered his neck with light kisses. “Before I found you today, I was so scared you might be dead,” he admitted between kisses and hugged Mycroft closer against him. “But there is nothing you could have done to change what happened. I don’t want you to believe for another second that any of it is your fault.” Mycroft made a disagreeing sound, but he didn’t speak up so Greg continued: “It’s a good thing that I’m your Dom, that you let me choose how we deal with this. You’re tormenting yourself as it is and by the by I will never punish you for any mistakes that have nothing to do with our kinks and rules.” He sat back and pressed another kiss to Mycroft’s shoulder blade. The man in front of him began to shiver and it had nothing to do with the sudden absence of Greg’s body heat.

“Raise your head a bit so I can put that collar on you?” Mycroft obeyed immediately and sighed when the familiar feeling of leather on skin surrounded his neck.

Greg put his left hand on Mycroft’s chest and pulled him into his arms again. With the index finger of his right hand he stroked along the upper rim of the collar. “Tell me what this collar means, pet.” He felt Mycroft’s heartbeat speed up under his fingertips.

“It means that I belong to you, that I am your sub and I allow you to own me. It means that we trust and respect each other and I am… _loved_.” Mycroft had always struggled to say that last bit out loud.

“That’s my good boy.” Greg’s fingers travelled from the upper rim of the collar to Mycroft’s chin and carefully tilted his head back. “It also means that I accept the responsibility you give me, that I will take care of you both physically and emotionally and that I will always treat you appropriately…” he nibbled at Mycroft’s left earlobe, “especially if you’re being too hard on yourself.” Greg’s left hand moved from Mycroft’s pecs down to his penis and began to stroke.

Mycroft let his head fall back against his Dom’s shoulder and moaned. “Thank you, Sir.”

“This is as much for your enjoyment as it is for mine,” Greg chuckled and teased his fiancé to full hardness. He wouldn’t let him come like this, not now that the bath water was getting colder anyway. They just sat like that for another couple of minutes, soft splashes of water and Mycroft’s moans the only sounds that bounced off the tiled walls of the room. When Greg decided it was time to move on to the actual fun, they drained the bath and quickly rinsed off the lemon and cedar wood scented remnants.

~

“Oh fuck yes!” Greg sighed as he thrusted deeper into Mycroft’s mouth. They often started their scenes like this: Mycroft kneeling between his Dom’s legs, head bobbing in his lap as he teased him with wicked licks. Sucking hard Mycroft moaned around the thick cock in his mouth. He hoped to be rewarded with another thrust, but instead Greg’s hand twisted in his short hair and he slipped out of his mouth altogether. “Jesus, pet,” he panted, pinching the tip of his cock between two fingers. “I didn’t want to cum like that tonight.”

Mycroft beamed at him, pleased with his skills and the knowledge of what his Dom enjoyed most. “Then perhaps you can do both of us a favour and fuck me already?”

“Brat,” Greg laughed and manoeuvred Mycroft to lie over his thighs. “Looks like someone needs a spanking after all.”

“Yes, please,” Mycroft sighed and arched his back. He really enjoyed this particular funishment, although the effect was even headier when his Dom was fully dressed.

The first few smacks barely hurt at all, but Greg slowly upped the intensity. After a few minutes, Mycroft was groaning and writhing in his Dom’s lap, trying in vain to get some friction for his throbbing cock. “Please…” he moaned between smacks and Greg finished the spanking with a particularly hard smack on his upper thigh.

“Do you understand that I’m the one in charge here and that you don’t get to order me around?”

“Yes, Sir,” Mycroft agreed and stopped writhing.

Greg grinned. “Good… because I really wanna fuck you now.”

Mycroft inhaled sharply when slick fingers slid between his reddened buttocks and circled his entrance a few times. “Aah, Gregory!” he groaned when one fingertip breached him, quickly joined by another. Greg set a steady rhythm, efficiently preparing his lover. When he deemed him ready, he removed his fingers and ordered Mycroft to get on the bed and lie down on his back. Mycroft eagerly spread his legs, holding onto the headboard to refrain from touching himself as he watched his Dom slick up his cock. Both men moaned in pure bliss when the tip of Greg’s considerable length breached him.

Greg moved very slowly at first, letting Mycroft adjust to the feeling. Both of them were out of their minds with the need to thrust and feel and kiss and just fuck each other senseless, but Greg wasn’t stupid enough to ever risk hurting his fiancé. They would get to their shattering crescendo as they always did, but Greg wanted to start carefully.

He reached up to stroke one hand along Mycroft’s arm, smiling at his lover. “You can let go if you want,” he said, referring to the death-grip Mycroft had on the headboard.

The brunette man shook his head. “I’d only touch myself and ruin the scene.”

“So good for me, pet,” Greg praised and intertwined his fingers with Mycroft’s right hand, pressing it against the pillow above his head. “You’re such a good boy,” Greg whispered and leaned down to kiss his sub hungrily.

Mycroft whimpered into the kiss when Greg’s cock brushed over his sweet spot. Breaking the kiss, Greg changed the angle of his hips and was rewarded with a string of groans and curses when he hit his lover’s prostate again and again. Hearing words that rarely – if ever – left Mycroft’s lips spiked Greg’s arousal and he picked up the pace. Soon their bedroom was filled with the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin, Greg’s panting breath and Mycroft’s high-pitched moans. Mycroft clenched around his Dom’s cock and made a desperate little noise.

Greg’s thrusts became even harder, determined to push his fiancé over the edge first. He reached between them and wrapped his hand around Mycroft’s cock, pumping erratically. “That’s it, pet. Cum for me.” After five more thrusts, Mycroft arched into his fist and came with a shout. He closed his eyes, head thrown back and mouth open in pure bliss.

Greg grabbed Mycroft’s hips and picked up the pace again, fucking him with abandon. His thrusts became erratic before he stilled balls-deep in his lover’s arse, cursing and groaning through his orgasm. When the most intense feeling of utter bliss subsided, he slumped onto Mycroft and – not caring about the sticky mess between them – kissed his lover slowly. “You were so good for me tonight, love.” Another quick kiss. “Be right back.” Greg disentangled himself from Mycroft’s long legs and headed for the bathroom to clean himself up and get a wet towel for his fiancé.

“Gregory,” a sleepy voice stopped him in his tracks. “Thank you. For everything you did for me tonight.”

“For _us_ , love.” By the time he got back into the bedroom, Mycroft was already snoring softly. Smiling, Greg skipped the wet towel clean-up and slipped under the covers next to his fiancé.


End file.
